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Jhoughts and J^ancies, 



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By C. CrDai*^. 

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NEW YORK : 

Samuel Hamilton, Printer, 61 Cedar Street. 
1869. 



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X=\'9< 



BnTEEED ACCOEDINa TO ACT OF CONORESS, IN THE YeAR 1869, BY 

CHARLES C. DAWSON, 

TS. THE Clerk's Office of the District Court foe the Sotjtheen 

District of New York. 



Printed for Private Use. 



A FEW SCORE LINES I GATHER HERE, 

CHANCE-WRITTEN, LACKING SKILL AND GRACE, 
YET BRINGING ME, OF TIME OR PLACE, 

IN EVERY PAGE, SOME MEMORY DEAR. 



CONTENTS. 



THE SCHOOL , an address, .... 9 

ADIEU, - - 81 

FAR AWAY, 23 

THE LIVE-FOREVER, 25 

TO PRAIRIE COTTAGE, 31 

TO A. W. D., - - - - . - - 32 

SAINT ANTHONY, 36 

FOR AN ALBUM, 41 

DEDICATION HYMN, : - - - . 42 

LINES READ AT A PRINTERS' FESTIVAL, - - 44 



8 CONTENTS. 

EXTRACTS FROM AN ADDRESS. . - - - 53 

The Tp:achek, . . . - 53 

The Old-Fashion ED School-House, - - 55 

The New-Fashioned School-House, - 58 

TO JEANNIE, 60 

NEW YEAR'S EYE, 62 

BE FIRM AND TRUE, 65 

MY CATALOGUE OF LANDS, - 1 . . 68 

A CHRISTMAS LETTER, - - - - - 75 

GEORGE FOX, 81 

MARGARET FELL, 83 



The School 



AN ADDRESS 

READ AT THE CLOSING OF BROOKLYN EVENING SCHOOL, NO. 1, 

DECEMBER 2i, 1855. 



Three moons ago, when skies were clear, — 
The jewel month of all the year, — 

When Summer's work was all complete^ 
With gathered stores of golden grain 
The farmers' granaries were replete, 
And plenty smiled on hill and plain. 



10 THE SCHOOL. 

The Spring-time's labors were repaid ; 
All sweat of brow, all toil with spade, 
Each furrow that the plow had made, 

Each newly turned and virgin sward, 
Each scattered seed, each hour of care. 

Had brought its rich and sure reward. 



An act of faith is earnest prayer, 
And sacred is the eternal word. 

And sure each promise written there ! 
Believe, for '' Thus hath said the Lord," 

Seed-time and harvest shall not cease. 
But each returning year afford 

Its faithful suns and rich increase. 



THE SCHOOL. 11 

With trailing robes, like courtly dame 
Of olden time, September came : 

Her vesture was of queenly stuff; 
March, April, May, the warp prepared, 
And Summer months, three sisters, shared 

The toil of filling in the woof. 



June made it velvety and soft, 
July its glorious colors gave. 

And August bound the jewels on ! 

By cooling airs refreshed oft. 
She came when Summer's heats were gone, 
Yet glowing with the life they gave. 



12 THE SCHOOL. 

Proud was her vigorous step, but light 
And graceful as a swallow's flight ; 
A myriad leaves, for tresses, o'er 



Her arching neck did hang and twine, 



And on her brow a wreath she bore. 



Of laurel and sweet eglantine. 



Such was the month — befitting worth}^ deeds — 
And such the time wdien those before you came. 
And took the path which ever faithful leads 
To Self-respect, more dear and rare than Fame. 
Honor may be without an honored name. 
And great Renown to Virtue have no claim. 
Happy the man whose thoughts incline to good. 



THE SCHOOL. 13 

Who has at heart a conscious rectitude. 

Although his lot be humble, and his f;ire be rude. 

His worth unrecognized, and cold neglect 

His most unselfish services repay, 

He still has that for which might well convey 

Base kings their glittering stores, and he, than they 

More rich, the offer with proud scorn reject ! 

The school ! What pleasing memories it brings 

Of early days, and long-forgotten things ! 

The rustic village, where our life began, 

Its quaint old inn, with cheer for beast and man, 

Its sleepy streets, by stubborn grass overgrown. 

Its one small store, where motley wares were shown. 

And "sold for cash," at "barter," or "on trust," 



14 THE SCHOOL. 

Where neiglibors gathered and the news discussed, 
Where news by postman twice a week was brought, 
And anxious maids their lovers' letters sought. 
The painted houses ranged about the green, 
Bespeaking comfort, — neither rich nor mean, — 
'The modest church that on the hillside stood. 
The aged pastor, stern, but very good, 
The village 'squire — a worthy man he was. 
Who pounded leather and ea^pounded laws. 
Who '^cared for soles," and soothed domestic burns, 
Lapstone and '' Blackstone" on his knee by turns, — 
The social doctor who relieved our ills, 
His jokes and stories, better than his pills. 
The laboring 'smith, — how oft, in evenings long, 
We watched his toil, and joined his cheerful song, — 



THE SCHOOL. 15 

The limping negro, dull, but kind of heart, 
From whom we learned the piscatorial art, — 
Our cruel pranks so often on him played, — 
The tasteful cot where lived the little maid 
Whose sweet blue eyes our childish fancy took, 
The spreading fields where flowed the sinuous brook. 
That slowly first along its course did steal, 
Then hastened on to drive the miller's wheel, 
The bridgeside pool, where sheep and saints were 

ducked, 
The flock of geese our gr^tndam yearly plucked. 
The busy hens, each with her chirping brood. 
Our own dear cottage, sheltered by the wood. 
The joys of home — thrice blest the son who shares 
A father's counsels and a jiiot*her's prayers ! 



16 THE SCHOOL. 

One other scene our memory attends, 

'Tis clierishecl now when youth with manhood blends, 

And hoary age shall count its pleasures o'er, 

And thus employed shall seem a child once more. 

Once more a child, shall feel the soft impress 
Of mother's kiss — her pleased and fond caress, — 
Cheered by her smile, shall haste to school away, 
Happy as birds that sing the livelong day. 
Again shall join his schoolmates in their games. 
Shall hear their voices and recall their names. 
And think how many of that joyous band 
Have passed before him to '' the silent land :" 
Muse on their varied lives, and recognize 
In each, a care Divine, and purpose wise. 



THE SCHOOL. 17 

The pastor's daughter taught our village school, 
Much was she loved, for love was all her rule, 
Proud to do well, no nobler place she sought, 
But to her task an earnest spirit brought, 
Patient and cheerful, modest, gentle, kind. 
In her, much good with native grace combined, 
Of virtue found in every heart a share. 
Or owned it so, and thus secured it there. 
When studies palled, by ready art contrived. 
Some new surprise each flagging mind revived. 
And long within our grateful heart shall be 
Enshrined, that faithful teacher's memory. 

But years have passed, and qther scenes we view : 
To home long since with sighs we bade adieu, 



18 THE SCHOOL. 

The swarming city sought, and here with true 
And earnest hearts, life's labors we pursue. 
These are the voices which attract our ear ; 
Hope bids us onward in a bright career, 
Ambition lures us with the promised gain 
Of wealth and fame, her devotees attain. 
But Wisdom doth a voice of counsel raise, 
And warns us seek her calm and lovely ways : 
^ *' With all thy gettings, do thou wisdom get, 
All else may perish, it will serve thee yet." 

Thanks for the school, that as her handmaid stands, 
And opes the door unto her Temple fair ! 
Though daily toils engage our active hands, 
Our evenings, well employed, admit us there. 



THE SCHOOL. 19 

The school ! methinks that in a future age, 

When States have perished in the grasp of time, 
And studied well shall be our history's page, 

The story of our country's deeds sublime, 
And men shall ask, '' What made the nation strong ?'' 
This shall be said : " Not to her arms belong 
The honors of her fame : her Schools, made free 
Alike to all ; to them the praises be !" 

Three moons ago, — how short the time appears. 
How like the memory of a vanished dream, 

But of such dreams are all the circling years, 

And short and dream-like, thus, our life shall seem ! — 

Three moons ago we congregated here. 

Those moons ! how sweetly have they waxed and 
waned ! 



20 THE SCHOOL. 

And now we part — 'tis with regret sincere, 
Still longing, longing, for the Unattained ! 

Farewell, our teachers ! and our friends, '••■ farewell ! 

Ye point the way along life's devious road, 
Ye sow the seed whose growth no man shall tell, — 

may ye find your labor well bestowed ! 

Farewell, my brothers ! may another year 

Find these familiar faces gathered here ! 

This is life's Spring — plough deep the yielding soil. 

While sleep the sordid, for the future toil ; 

Each day advance, each day some good secure. 

This is our Seedtime, and the harvest's sure ! 

* Gentlemen on the platform. 



ADIEU. 



21 



A 



DIEU 



Eight summer days 
Passed pleasantly with thee, our friend most dear ; 
Their memory shall much enrich the year, 
And swell its current, while it flows more clear : 

The weary ways 

Of life shall be 
Less weary for this summer rest : 
E'en as the laborer finds the noon-hour blest. 
And seeks repose upon the earth's warm breast, 

So sweetly we. 



22 ADIEU. 

At the year's noon, 
Here, 'mong these beauteous hills, that greet 
First in the morn the rising sun, and meet 
His glances latest at the day's retreat. 

Have found the boon 

Of rest. Again 
With hearts made strong, we go at duty's call. 
— Soon will our little noon be past, and all 
Life's toil be done ; its evening shadows fall. 

May we Rest then ! 

1856. 



FAR AWAY. 23 



f 



ft. 



AR ?1VV^AY 



Far away from thee, dear one, the distance but 

strengthens 

The love that I bear thee, so faithful and true, 

The bond that unites us gathers strength while it 

lengthens, 

And never can break while my course I pursue. 

Let me cross the dim mountains that lie far before 
me, 
The lakes and the valleys that slumber between. 



24 FAR AWAY. 

My love shall still span them, like the blue heavens 
o'er me, 
And nought shall prevent though the earth inter- 
vene. 

What shall speed like my thoughts on their favorite 
mission ? 
What shall glow like my love while I think on thy 
name ? 

^nd to merit thy heart, what shall match my am- 
bition, 

But my zeal to possess it forever the same ? 
1856. 



THE LIVE-FOREVER. 25 



The Liye-Foreyer. 

Two children, once, with reverent care, 
Knelt meekly by a new-made grave, 

And planted live-forever there, 

With flowers that sweetest perfume gave. 

Those children mourned an equal loss, 
A father from their hearts had gone, 

Their past support in every cross. 
The soul their love had centered on. 



26 THE LIVE-FOREVER. 

Those little mourners, hand in hand, 
Had come to do that filial deed, 

And knew no will but love's command. 
Nor their relationship did heed. 

Both missed a father's hand withdrawn, 



Yet child and grandchild were to him ; 



And though they wept that he was gone, 
V Still felt his love would ne'er grow dim. 

The son, the elder of the two, 

Still cherished for his sister's child, 

A brother's love, sincere and true. 
And all her little griefs beguiled. 



THE LIVE-FOREVER. 27 



And thus no other name they knew. 
She loved as but a sister can ; 

And when to womanhood she grew, 
Still found a brother in the man. 

And after years had passed away, 
Years of alternate grief and joy, 

The man some tribute turned to pay, 
Where he had knelt when but a boy. 

He found the grave with grass overgrown, 
And dead the flowers of sweet perfume. 

The live-forever lived alone. 

And seemed to bear affection's bloom. 



28 THE LIVE-FOREVER. 

And, plucking from the living plant, 
A sprig of green for memory's sake, 

He bore it where the sunbeams slant 
Upon the prairies and the lake. 

There, far removed from early scenes. 
The little child he loved had come, 

And what the name of orphan means, 
Had found within her Western home. 

Again, beside a new-made grave, 

Those mourners knelt with reverent care. 

Knelt where the j)rairie grasses wave, 
And placed the live-forever there. 



THE LIVE-FOREVER. 29 

Again they mourned an equal loss, 
A mother from their hearts had gone, 

Their solace long in every cross, 

The soul their love had centered on. 

Again those children, hand in hand. 

Had come to do a filial deed, 
And knew no will but love/s command, 

Nor their relationship did heed. 

Both felt a mother's hand withdrawn, 
Yet brother, daughter, were to her ; 

And though they wept that she was gone. 
Still felt her love would lessen ne'er. 



30 THE LIVE FOREVER. 

'Tis thus the live-forever grows, 

Above the sleeping forms they loved ;•''" 
And some would plant the sweeter rose, 
But this its constancy has proved. 
1856. 

""IN MEMORIAM. 

TIMOTHY J. DAWSON, 

Died March 2d, 1843, 

Cazenovia, N. Y. 
^^ 

Mrs. LUCIA E. D. KINNEY, 

Died August 20th, 1852, 

Lone Oak Fakm, Bloomingdale, III. 



TO PRAIRIE COTTAGE. 31 



To Prairie Cottage 

THE RESIDENCE OF MR. ANDREW SUMMERS, 
CLARK COUNTY, MISSOURI. 



Whatever, without^ the season may appear, 
However cold, unclieerful, bleak and drear, 
Within thy walls the kindly Summers reign, 
Possessed of hearts as ample as thy prairie's spacious 
plain. 

And oft, oh cottage ! when I've ceased to roam, 

Again with loved ones in my distant home. 

My heart shall tm^n to thee, and think how blest 

Was I, to find, 'mid strangers, in thy shade, so 

sweet a rest ! 
1856. 



32 TO A. W. D. 



Jo f.. f. p 



oil, roam no more ! 
Long years ago we clasped tliy parting hand, 
And saw thee take thy farewell from the land : 

Oh, give thy wanderings o'er ! 

What charm for thee 
Can have the troubled and the changeful deep ? 
Say does it not thy soul's reflection keep ? 

Oh, leave the fickle sea ! 



TO A. W. D. 33 

And hast thou found 
In all the stranger-lands that thou hast seen, 
A spot where more things lovely do convene, 

Than on thy native ground ? 

Friends thou dids't prize 
Are waiting thy return with anxious hearts ; 
Thy mother, sad and lone, to see thee, starts 

Oft, with expectant eyes. ^ 

Thou comest not, 
And hope again declines, and eyes grow dim, 
While inwardly she pleads for thee with Him 

To whom is known thy lot. 



34 TO A. W. D. 

And some are dead : 
Gone a long voyage to return no more — 
Yet we may meet them on the other shore, 

When heavenly sails we spread. 

Changes have come 
On things to which thy early love was bound : 
Thou see'st them not — Time's fingers have not found 

Thy memory of home. 

The work is slow — 
And wilt thou come while yet these scenes retain, 
Dear one, some spot familiar, where again 

Love may take root and grow ? 



TO A. W. D. 35 

Oh ! sad, indeed, 
Will be the time when all the scene is changed, 
And no fond eyes shall greet thy face estranged, 

No heart thy pain shall heed ! 

Wealth, joy and love, 
Shall smile upon thee when thou woo'st them here ; 
And soulfull eyes shall shed the farewell tear. 

When thou art called above. 

Yet one is true. 
Where'er thou art, however long thy stay: 
And Keaven guide thee, dear one, on thy way. 

And peace thy path pursue ! 



36 SAINT ANTHONY. 



St. Anthony. 

A VEESIFICATION 

OF THE " PRETTY STORY OF SAINT ANTHOXY," AS BELATED BY 

HUGH liATIMER : PARTLY IN HIS LANGUAGE. 

Saint Anthony, 4o lead a holier life, 
Forsook the world, and all of worldly strife, 
Eemote from men, where *peace would cast her 

shade. 
Far in the wilderness his dwelling made. 
And there, in prayer and penance, sinlessness 

essayed. 



SAINT ANTHONY. 37 

No bed had he to rest his weary form, . 
No grateful roof to shield him from the storm, 
No dainty fare his solitude to cheer ; 
Yet well content he was if only clear 
From evil he might keep, and please his Lord 
most dear. 

Oft in the day his solemn prayers were said, 
On painful bended knees, in Godly dread : 
From fastings faint, yet firm in faith and strong. 
In Misereres, paters, aves, long 
Continuing, until the even hour of song. 

The song discoursed, and done the poor repast. 
Oft like the day the weary night wSs passed ; 



38 SAINT ANTHONY. 

Full freely fell the j^enitential tears, 

And free confessions, framed for heavenly ears, 

Were made to Him who evermore in mercy hears. 



Unto the hermit sjjake the Holy One, 
Who heard the prayer and saw the penance done : 
^^ Full well, Anthony, hast thou kept thy vow, 
And yet, in Alexandria, even now 
A cobbler there doth dwell, more perfect than art 
thou!" 

Then rose the saint and to the city went. 

And found the cobbler on his work intent : 

" Pray tell me, worthy man,'' the saint besought. 



SAINT ANTHONY. 39 

" How thou dost spend thy time, and give thy 

thought, 
And what good works, for Heaven's love and favor, 

hast thou wrought ?" 

" Sir," said the cohbler, " good works have I none — 
My life's a simple and a slender one. 
Each morning for the city where I dwell 
I pray, — its wants I plead — its sorrows tell, — 
And with poor friends and neighbors ask it may 
be well. 

" Then at my labor all the day I sit ; 

From falsehood keep — hate nought so much as it; 

Whate'er I promise faithfully fulfill ; 



40 SAINT ANTHONY. 

And so, with wife and children, strive God's will 
To do, — the sum of my poor life — at best but ill,' 



Oh Hol}^ One, who blessed the patient life 
Of the poor toiler 'mid the city's strife, 
Teach us to do the duty that we know : 



Whatever ou^ station be, or high or low. 



Simply to fill oxir 23lace, the saintly grace bestow ! 

1857. 



FOR AN ALBUM. 41 



T^OR AN Album. 



^' Sacred to Friendship" is thy book, and ne'er 
Within its pages careless hand may write ; 
Nor shall the heart of aught but friend indite 

The fair inscriptions to be written here. 

I know thee not, nor e'er have seen thy face, — 
I am thy brother s friend, and know him true : 
A link connects us, — wdll the pleading do ? 

Accept it, then, and Friendship claims her place ! 
1856. 



42 DEDICATION HYMN. 



Dedication Wymn, 

SUNG AT THE 

DEDICATION OF THE CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, IN 

DES MOINES, IOWA, 1858. 



I. 

When Abram to the valley came 
That lies in Hebron, calm and fair, 

His pion« hands, to thy good name, 
Lord, an altar builded there. 

II. 

So, when om- shores, in bygone days. 
Were first by Christian Pilgrims trod, 

They owned thee worthy of their praise. 
And built an altar to their God. 



DEDICATION HYMN. 43 

III. 

To this fair valley led by thee, 

Here, Lord, behold our altar stands, 

Let this thine earthly temple be, 
And bless the offering of our hands. 

IV. 

Here, in this consecrated place. 

Abide, and nevermore depart. 
But let thy presence chiefly grace, 
Lord, each waiting Christian's heart. 

V. 

So may thy name ere long be known 

In every land beneath the skies. 
Till all shall bow before thy throne. 
And everywhere thine altars rise ! 



44 LINES READ AT A PRINTERS' FESTIVAL. 



y 



INES 



BEAD AT A PRINTERS' FESTIVAL, HELD AT DES MOINES, IOWA, 
JAN. 17, 1858. 



Come list ye, brother printers, all, 

Let rhylne with wit and reason flow; 
Your bard's an amateur in verse, 

And was in types a season so. 
'Tis thus he's privileged to join 

Your company so pleasing. 
And though the '^press" is here convened, 

He finds there is no "squeezing." 



LINES READ AT A PRINTERS' FESTIVAL. 45 

'Tis not as 'twas the other night, "'•'' 

(Excuse me my digression,) 
For then the press was out of plight, 

And made a bad "impression." 
Some "error/' too, in "making up," 

Was much deplored by many. 
Some "matter" took too great a "space," 

And some got hardly any. 
While "correspondents,'' here in town, 

Informed their '^country readers," 
There were so many "locals" there, 

They crowded out the "leaders." 
"Mistakes" to all were manifest. 

Who saw that "standing matter,"! 

*Referrmg to an "Inaug'uration Festival," held at the State House, in Des 
Moines, a few evenings previously, when, owing to the crowd and confusion, many 
whom it was designed to compliment, were excluded from the table. 
tThere were no seats provided at the table. 



46 LINES READ AT A PRINTERS' FESTIVAL. 

But where's the use of multiplying 

^'Pages'' of "errata?" 
The "font'' of hospitality 

Is well supplied as ever, 
And every honest townsman's pride 

Will prompt to fresh endeavor. 
The failures of a single night 

Are hardly worth repeating, 
When eveiy home, and every hand, 

Extends the cordial greeting. 
To-night the brethren of the "press," 

From ^^ Citizen'' and ^^ Journal," 
Unite to celebrate their "craft," 

With sympathy fraternal. 
Some typos they've invited in 



LINES READ AT A PRINTERS' FESTIVAL. 47 



From towns and cities neighboring, 



And some are here who long ago 



Left off that ^'sort" of laboring. 
Yet all do bear the noble art 

An honest love, and hearty, 
And they who scorn its toilsome ways 

Do not compose the party. 
The art that Faust and Gutenberg, 

And SchoefFer made immortal; 
Whose power is felt throughout the world, 

And stands at Learning's portal; 
Who names among its devotees, 

A Caxton and a Franklin ; 
That fills the waning lamp of truth, 

Breathes peace where feuds are rankling; 



48 LINES READ AT A PRINTERS' FESTIVAL. 

That ai't does not my humble voice 
Keqmre to soimcl its praises — 

Its great achievements speak for it, 
And each the trumpet raises. 



And now to Granger, here's a health, 

Our earliest local printer, J 
The founder of the ^^Star" that shone 

Through many a chilling winter; 
And here's to Bates, and Hull, and Finch, 

Who followed in succession, 
And who, like him, left 'Hypes" for law's 

More lucrative profession; . 



:The first paper published in Des Moines was the ''loioa Star," commenced by 
Barlow Granger & Co., in 1849. See history of Des Moines newspapers in Turrill's 
"Historical Reminiscences of Des Moines," ch. VIII. 



LINES READ AT A PRINTERS' FESTIVAL. 49 

Who found their dividends in "pie/' 

No 2)rofit in their "cases :" 
Their "quoins" would seldom bring the coins, 

And so they left their "chases." 
And here's to Sherman, whose ^^Gazette" 

Gazetted was in 'fifty, 
And here's to Myers, who followed with 

His '^Journal/' young and thrifty. 
Both left the craft, and doubtless think, 

"Imposing" imposition — 
But 'tis a pleasure yet to see 

Their "forms" in good condition.* 



♦Referring to Mr. L. P. Sherman, a brother of the distinguished General and Sen- 
ator of that name, and to Mr. Peter Myers, for many years honorably connected with 
public affairs in Iowa. Mr. Tomlinson, whose name follows theirs, had an unfortun- 
ate history; he having been killed, as I have been informed, in a street altercation, 
somewhere in Ohio, during the late war. The dispute is said to have arisen out of 
the political excitement of the times, in which Mr. T,, although always previously 
politically allied to the South, waged a vigorous warfare, editorially, against the 
Slaveholders' Rebellion. 



50 LINES READ AT A PRINTERS' FESTIVAL. 

To Tomlinson, the ^' Statesman's' chief, 
We give the toast in passing, 

"Fat takes," and plentiful, be his, 
And honors worth amassing. 

Here's Sypherd, of the " Citizen," 
His " register's" upon it, 



And Farner, his successor, too. 



Has starnped his '^imprint" on it. 
We'll fill to all the printers here 

Who've left their types and "cases," 
Kejoicing that such worthy men 

Have come to fill their places. 

To Porter, now, a hearty toast. 
The patriarch of the '^ Journal," 



LINES READ AT A PRINTERS' FESTIVAL. 51 

To Mills and Carter, and their boys, 

Down to their imp infernal ; 
To Teesdale, of the '' Citizen;' 

We welcome his accession. 
And last, not least, is Dixon, '••'•■ 

Who graces our procession. 
That worthy '' Dean,f " let us advise 

A wedded life to follow : 
A wifeless home is but a " quod," 
So blank, and dull, and hollow. 
While marriage gives to life a zest, 
And betters all conditions. 



* J. M. Dixon, for many years the talented and popular "local" of the Citizen, and 
of its successor, the Iowa State Register. Mr. D. is now totally blind, but still follow- 
in i? his profession. 

tMr. Dixon published a series of witty papers over the signature of "Dean 
Swiit, Jr.'- 



52 IJNKS UKAD AT A ritlNTKIls' FKHTIVAF. 

1 1. makes jlic liappy pJiii" iiiosi, bN^st, 
In HubHoquont *' editions." 



So, now, <() cacli Jind Jill, 1 say, 
Kijjjlit conlijilly T ^ro(^t you, 

And wIkui another y(!ar rolls 'roniid, 
May T b(^ bine to meet yon ! 



TiiK TK AC moil. 53 



f 



XTR'ACTS 



FROM AN ADDllKHS UKAD llKI'OHl'; 'VWV. TOMC CiOUMTY, IOWA, TI'.ACIIKUH 
INSTnUTK, AUdUHT 25, IK')'.). 



I.— TllK ^I^KACIIKIl. 

What sliould tlic TcmcIkm- 1m' ? It is no lij^lit 
And (iasy task to Hay, and say ari<;ht. 
One a])t to tx^acli, as on(^ oCold Inis said, 
Ono apt to l<^arn, as well, and ch^ar oi' lioad, 
On(^ pnre in heart, and pnr<' in jxu-son, too, 
Whose liie his jnipils may witli safety vi(!vv, 
And safely iniitati^, for that tlicy'll do ; 
Ono HkiUed to inle \n\\\\ firmness, ycit lu^tiny 



■54 EXTRACTS FROM AN ADDRESS. 

Scarcely the power that bears the gentle sway ; 
One much above his books in all they teach, 
Who well can use, or yet dispense with each ; 
One who regards the laws .by God ordained, 
Whereby the life He gave us is sustained, 
And who will see those wholesome laws observed 
Where life and health too seldom are conserved ; 
When studies tire, one skillful to devise 
Those pleasures that amuse, yet make more wise ; 
Who loves, and kindly greets, each smiling child ; 
Who patient is, yet earnest, unassuming, mild, 
Cheerful of heart, yet dignified of mien — 
No boasting pedant, garrulous and vain — 
These are the noble qualities that grace 
The Teacher's life, and fit him for his place. 



the old-fashioned school-house. 55 

11. — The Old-Fashioned School-House. 

Some hard, square building, blazing in the sun. 
Where seldom trees do wave, or streamlets run. 
Low, dingy, hateful, comfortless and old. 
Its narrow site forbidding, barren, bold, 
With neither bush, fence, decency or shade ; 
Its walls and floors with smoke and dirt o'erlaid, — 
For ventilators, broken window-panes, — 
Carved work of obscene hands, and inky stains. 
On desks and doors, augmenting year by year ; 
Its benches high, where children hang in fear. 
With dangling legs, of tumbling to the floor ; 
Its great red stove, whose fervid glances pour 



56 EXTRACTS FROM AN ADDRESS. 

Headache and vertigo alike on all 

Near by, and shivering leave those at the wall; 

Say, if with such asylums, it were strange 

Children should truants prove, and choose to range 

In summer, through the inviting fields, 

Where every breeze both health and vigor yields ; 

Should roam the teeming woods, where birds and 

flowers, 
In full companionshipr, beguile the hours ; 
Should seek, with rod and line, the grass-bound 

streams, 
And there the school forget in childish dreams ; 
Or if in winter, leave its dreaded courts, 
And dreaded tasks, for glorious winter sports — 



THE OLD-FASHIONED SCHOOL-HOUSE. 57 

The glassy pond, inviting them to skate, 

The snow -crowned hill, where boon companions 

wait — 
Say if a child — as every child should be — 
Mercurial, active, full of childish glee, — 
Say if 'twere strange, impatient of its rule, 
The suffering child loved not the public school ? 
And say, ye teachers, parents, friends of youth, 
If neatness, order, chastity and truth. 
That modesty which childhood best adorns. 
That noble bearing which all meanness scorns, 
Will here be learned, where vice is learned with ease, 
Where sharp discomforts tempt each one to seize 
More than his share of any chance relief ? 
It may be so — not so is my belief ! 



58 EXTRACTS FROM AN ADDRESS. 

III. — The New-Fashioned School-House. 

Thanks to a generous age, we gladly praise ! 

These ancient houses, types of former days, 

Too long revered, as other things of yore, 

Now yield, — that should have yielded long before — 

At last, to wise Keform's all potent sway, 

And one by one are being swept away ! 

If there be one site lovlier than the rest . 

In all the town, by Nature's charms more blest, 

There should the school-house stand, and what the eye 

Desires of beauty more, let art and taste supply. 

Pleasing in style, and ample in its size. 

With all those comforts skillful hands devise, 



THE NEW-FASHIONED SCHOOL-HOUSE. 59 

Well warmed, well ventilated, well arranged, 

The smoky walls for maps and charts exchanged. 

Seats, desks and black-boards, neatly made and well, 

A bell, a clock the priceless hours to tell, 

A library of books for public use, 

A set of globes, — whatever will diffuse 

The influence benign increasing knowledge yields. 

What e'er will win the truants from the fields. 

Such is the School-house of the modern day, 

And such the attractions may they all display ! 



60 TO JEANNIE. 



T 



o Jeannie 



ON OITB "WEDDIXG ANXIYERSARY. 



But two years have gone, Jeannie dear, since we wed, 

And these like that day. 

That gem of the May, 
Have brightly though rapidly fled, 

Too rapidly vanished away. 

We pledged to each other our love, Jeannie dear: 
The love that we gave 
With pledges so grave 



TO JEANNIE. 61 

Has grown with each lengthening year, 

And made us more true and more brave. 

We promised our faith with our love, cherish'd wife : 
And tremblingly said 
Was the word when we wed, 
But it sheds its sweet peace on our life, — 
And we look to One higher for aid ! 
1858. 



62 



NEW YEAR S EVE. 



Nev^t Yeai\^s Eye, 



I. 

The old year out — the new year in — 

I sit and watch in thoughtful mood : 
I wait the hour with breath subdued. 

And think of what the past hath been. 



II. 

The memories crowd the narrow hour — 

The moments fly, and shadows fill 



NEW year's eve. 63 

The haunted roorrij so dim and still — 
I gaze, — and live a life-time o'er. 



III. 
» 

Of common men the common lot — 



A childhood like a pleasant dream, 
The later life a troubled stream, 
With here and there a tranquil spot. 



lY. 

With here and there a shaded place, 

Where deep and still the waters flow ; 
Sweet nooks, where loving thoughts do go 

When I review the wearv race. 



64 NEW year's eve. 

v. 

Some peaceful hours, departing year, 
Came with thy daily toil and strife 
These go to mould the sterner life, 
Tliose are remembered with a tear. 



VI. 

The hour is past — thy parting knell 

Strikes bold and clear upon the night 
Long will I keep thy memory bright. 
Thou dear old year, — farewell — farewell ! 
1860—61. 



BE FIRM AND TRUE. 65 



Be j^ii\M AND True 

When foes assail the Nation's peace, 
Without, within, be firm and true, 

No danger threatens but will cease 
If we our loyal vows renew. 

And, as the darkening clouds increase, 
Be firm and true, be firm and true ! 

Firm were the souls that first essayed 
Our shores to seek, our wilds subdue, 



66 BE FIRM AND TRUE. 

And true their hearts who toiled and prayed 
As men who had a work to do, 

Through every ill were undismayed, 

Were firm and true, were firm and true ! 



The patriot sires ! Who doubts and fears, 
Let him their noble acts review; 

Like Israel's faith their faith appears, 

The Hand the same that led them through: 

Who lend a glory to their years, 

Are firm and true, are firm and true ! 

patriot sons ! bid fears depart. 



No longer weak, no longer few, 



BE FIRM AND TEUE. 67 

Nor }deld the truth to threatening art ; 

Strong in the right, the right /pursue; 
With ancient faith and loyal heart 

Be firm and true, he firm and true ! 
1861. 



68 MY CATALOGUE OF LANDS. 



My Catalogue of Land 



ON BECEIVING A CHRISTMAS GIFT 

OF A SCRAP-BOOK — A SMALL LEATHER-BOUND VOLUME THAT HAD CONTAINED 

A "CATALOGUE OF LANDS," AND WAS STILL SO LABELED. 



Stoutly bound in leather, like a book of legal lore, 



With a red morocco label, gilt with letters near a 



score, 
(Setting forth the simple matter that a Catalogue 

of Lands 
May be found between the covers,) is the volume 

in my hands. 



MY CATALOGUE OF LANDS. 69 

Now I wonder what good fairy has enriched me in 

a day, 
Has made me sole possessor of so large extent of 

clay, 
That a catalogue like this is needed to contain 
The brief abbreviations that describe my vast 

domain ! 
Or was it that Kris Kringle, when he came to give 

to me. 
Bestowed his large possessions up near the Northern 

Sea, 
And I, whoVe scarce an acre, save the spot endeared 

as home. 
Henceforth through my possessions for leagues 
may freely roam ! 



70 MY CATALOGUE OF LANDS. 

Well, a day ! a princely owner of the soil I've come 

to be, 
I, whose highest dream has been to hold my home- 
stead free, 
Have my acres by the thousands, all with 

accm'ate survey. 
And with careful numbers written, as my gift on 

Christmas day ! 
If IVe tenants, I will show them I've a heart of 

liberal mould, 
I will show them that their blessings are more 

worth to me than gold ! 
None shall say I take occasion of their weakness 

to oppress. 
Nor find me all unheeding in the day of their distress. 



MY CATALOGUE OF LANDS. 71 



I will call my friends around me, and to each a 



farm I'll give,- 



Thus in making others happy, a happy life I'll 
live, — 

Call each to claim a portion — so I'll my lands im- 
prove, 

And reap a bounteous harvest of their gratitude 
and love. 



But I lay my volume open, and I find no titles there, 
And my visions of wide acres are vanished in the 

air. 
'Tis a gift of garnered treasures, and thoughts of 

holy men. 



72 MY CATALOGUE OF LANDS. 

All pleasanter to read than the list it might have 

been ; 
And I bless the great good fortune that has spared 

me all my care, — 
Care of vast estates and riches with their too de- 
lusive snare, — 
'Tis a gift, and the inscription I know my wife's 

to be. 
And hers the graceful verses that say it is for me; 
And though the perfect measures were by the poets 

wrought. 
Hers the patient hand that copied — her own the 

happy thought 
That prompted her to gather these gems of verse 

and prose, 



MY CATALOGUE OF LANDS. 73 

And all for my sole pleasure in this volume to en- 
close. 

"Strung Pearls/' by Frederick Kiickert; "The 
Three Sons/' so like our own, 

(Save we are spared our youngest, — that babe to 
heaven had flown,) 

Words of sweet and solemn import, words of 

courage, hope and cheer. 
These, with quainter fancies varied, for all varying 

moods, are here ! 
And here are Lands ^ withal, a blest and wide domain, 
"The Fairest Land," where love doth dwell, — the 

spot where love doth reign, — 
And ah! there is the "The Heavenly Land," 

where beauty will not fade. 



74 MY CATALOGUE OF LANDS. 

Where hearts have no more sorrow, sink not, nor 

are dismayed, 
Where He who trod the desolate paths of life hath 

gone before, 
And where He will meet and greet us when our 

journey here is o'er. 
Now of these to have possession shall be my daily 

prayer, 
I'll be richer if I gain them than earthly princes are; 
Yet still one favor ask I, — that all my friends 

may share 
With me this heavenly greeting — these lands 

so BRIGHT AND FAIR ! 
1862. 



A CHRISTMAS LETTER. 75 



A. Christmas "Letter 

TO MY BOYS. 

Dear Children : 

When our precious Lord, 

A little babe, in Bethlehem lay, 
A holy angel brought the word 

From heaven to earth, a shining way. 
And pious shepherds, wondering, heard 

How Christ was born that joyful day. 

Then, where those favored shepherds stood, 
Bright winged spirits, hoveling nigh, 



76 A CHRISTMAS LETTER. 

A glorious, heavenly, multitude, 

Sweet songs they learned beyond the sky, 

Of joy, and love, and gratitude, 

Sang, to the praise of God on high. 



Then went those pious men to see 

Their Lord, w^ho should deliverance bring. 

Foretold so long in Prophecy, 

The Holy Child, their infant King; 

And while they worshipped, reverently, 



Their love was all their offering. 



And from an Eastern land, afar. 
To worship Him, of Princely birth, 



A CHRISTMAS LETTER. 77 

Led on their way by one bright star, 
Wise men, with gifts of rarest worth, 

Came, offering these, with reverent care, 
To Him, the Lord of all the earth. 

This is the day when Christ was born. 

And men rejoice, as well they may. 
And gifts, as those to Him were borne, 

Who in the manger-cradle lay 
LTpon that bright and blessed morn, 

Are freely given, this holy day. 

And since 'tis sweet to give unknown. 
And lends the deed a charm sublime, 



78 A CHRISTMAS LETTER. 

It has a cherished custom grown, 
In many a Christian land and clime, 

The aid of some good Saint to own, 
Who bears the gifts at Christmas time. 

But you have asked, with curious care. 
And childish prattle, on my knee, — 

Half guessed the truth — nor will forbear 
To press me more when these you see — 

These gifts, which are your Christmas share,- 
If true, indeed, these stories be ! 

I would you still might be content 

With tales so sweet, and loved so well, — 



A CHRISTMAS LETTER. 79 

Of ''Nick/' SO full of merriment, 

Of prancing steed, and tinkling bell, — 

But, since you are on Truth intent, 
Just half the truth I now will tell. 

Saint Nicholas, (Santa Claus^ we say,) 

Once lived — a holy man, of old, — 
He gave three maids, their wedding day, 

A marriage gift, in shining gold. 
In secret went and came away. 



Like a good saint, as we are told. 



Some say he once, so good was he, 
Brought back to joyous life again, 



80 A CHRISTMAS LETTER. 

Three children, who, most wickedly. 
By cruel, murderous, hands were slain,- 

And thus he chanced, (it well might be,) 
All little children's love to gain. 

But boanteous Saint there now is none. 

These tales have pleasant fictions been. 
For fifteen hundred years have flown 

Since this good man on earth was seem- 
Thus half the truth I'm forced to own ; 

Who brings your gifts, my little men ? 
Christmas, 1865. 



GEORGE FOX. 81 



George f^ox, 

FOUNDEB OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 

Champion of Truth alike in word and deed, — 
Truth that to thee was inwardly revealed, 
While from the thoughtless world it lay- 
concealed, 
That filled thy soul while yet thy steps did speed 
Along the shepherds* paths, thy flocks to lead, 
That forced thee from thy rural haunts, and 
sealed 
Thy ministry to men, thenceforth thy flocks to 
be, — 



82 GEORGE FOX. 

Oh, thou wert great in thy simplicity ! 
Fearless of men, but fearful of thy God, 
At His high name alone could'st thou be awed, 
Nor would'st thou bend the knee to aught but 
Him ; 
Faithful, though scourged with many a heavy 

rod, 
Steadfast, where many faltered as they trod, 
Thy name in Truth's bright shield shall nevermore 

grow dim ! 
1868. 



MARGARET FELL. 



83 



J^ 



Ar\GARET Fell 






OF SWARTHMORE HALL ; 
WIFE OF JUDGE FELL, AND AFTERWARD OF GEORGE FOX. 



The Church's mother thou, who loved it well, 
And nursed it with a mother's tender care, 
Full pleased to see its infancy so fair — 

The tender bud with such sweet promise swell ! 

Words of endearment, and wise counsel, fell 
Oft from thy lips, with faith's sublimest 
prayer ; 

And with a calm pure radiance shone thy light, 

Keflex of One incomparably bright ! 



84 • MARGARET FELL, 

For Zion's good thou deem'dst no care too 

great, 
No cross for His dear sake who bore the weight 
Of His own cross for thee, seemed burdensome ; 
The prison's gloom could not thy joy abate, 
Nor did'st thou heed the world's relentless 
hate. 
For thou had'st power within the world to over- 



come 



1868. 






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